Just for One Day
by RedHatMeg
Summary: Matt Murdock was offered a chance: thanks to mysterious healer he will have his sight back. However, as much as he would like to see world again, Matt have a strong feeling that something is wrong. After all, there is always a catch to deals that are too good to be true.
1. A miracle

**A miracle**

Of course he sometimes wished to see again.

One of the first lessons Stick taught him was that no matter how miserable Matt was after the accident, there were always people less fortunate than him. Take, for example, the old man Stick himself – he was born blind, so he didn't even know how it's like to see.

However, some could argue that losing something so vital, is actually a more cruel twist of fate than not having it since the day of birth. After all, Matt remembered how terrifying was the loss of his sight. How scared he was when he saw nothing but darkness. And how devastating was the realization that he will be blind forever.

But Murdocks were always getting up after the fall. Soon Matt got accustomed to his new situation and learned how to live without sight. Besides, he had other four senses. And when said other four senses were driving him crazy due to their increased intensiveness, there came Stick and taught him how to focus, how to fight, how to use smell, feel, hearing and taste to his advantage. Even when the old man abandoned him after some time, his lessons proved to be very useful for young Matty Murdock.

Blindness didn't stop him from getting on university, make friends and become a lawyer. It didn't stop him from becoming a vigilante.

Of course, it had some annoying aspects, especially because people were sometimes acting like he was this little fragile guy, around whom you had to be cautious about what you say or do. Matt felt awkwardness in the air, the silence falling every now and then on the people, he was hanging with. It was clear that most of them didn't know what to do with a blind person.

Frankly, it wasn't the case with everybody. It certainly wasn't the case with his roommate, Franklin "Foggy" Nelson. Foggy treated Matt's blindness as just another trait of ordinary guy named Matthew Murdock. For Foggy, Matt was a nerd, a chick magnet and a best friend. Even if Matt had been one of those losers prone to pity himself on tragedy that fell upon him (and he was long past that phase even when he was nine), he wouldn't have time for this with all the crazy stuff his roommate was pulling off.

Still, he got himself wonder once or twice how Foggy looked like. A very awkward examination of his face gave Matt some idea about that, but still, whenever he was trying to imagine his friend, the image painted in his head seemed to be… off. The same goes for imagining other people, or even objects. He could guess the shapes and textures, or even use descriptions regarding colors, but when he was putting it together it just didn't seem real. Because even the most vivid and detailed descriptions couldn't compare to actually seeing something or someone on your own eyes.

He couldn't even remember when was the last time when he was watching a movie? Even in TV? Granted, he had ears too, but the movie is a very visual medium and he couldn't rely on Foggy describing everything in details as the movie was going on.

Sometimes Matt missed being able to see. He was wishing that his sight was returned to him, even for a short moment of time. He was thinking about things he would give up for one day of not being blind. Just one day. One day to observe world with eyes – not ears, nose or hands, but with his own eyes. He would live this day to its fullest, for sure. He would try to cherish every color, shape and little detail. He would be looking at the beauty of the world which, for once, wouldn't be on fire.

However, he knew that this was impossible. He will never see again.

But big part of him was okay with it. World was cruel and tough, and you had to work with what you got. And frankly, his blindness wasn't as scary as in the beginning. In some sense, it was also his friend.

* * *

It was one of these less rough nights. Yeah, Matt got few scratches and he was fairly sure that he will have some bruises the next day, but other than that – he was fine. No broken bones, no deep wounds, nothing requiring Claire's assistance.

Now he was lying on his couch and tried to sleep. His whole body was aching of fatigue and he really just wanted to fall asleep and regain energy for the next day (and night). His eyelids were heavy and he felt the sleepiness coming…

But then he smelled a weird scent and quickly jolted into sitting position. Why his apartment was smelling like that? Did he leave the eggs on the counter and they weren't fresh anymore? Or maybe his pipes broke? Or maybe someone was here and planted some kind of homemade explosives in his flat? If the last option was in play here, Matt seriously doubted that this person knew he was Daredevil. But then again – did attorney in law, Matt Murdock pissed someone so much already?

He pulled the covers aside and was going to get up, when…

"Please, don't stand up." Said the low baritone voice.

Matt decided to not do as he was requested, and – in spite of his tiredness – stood up. He sensed that his mysterious visitor was sitting on the armchair.

"Who are you? How did you get here?"

"I understand your suspiciousness, but I assure you that I didn't come here to hurt you, mister Murdock. Actually I come to help you. Please, sit down."

There was something alarming about this guy (and it wasn't the fact that he apparently broke in to his apartment), but Matt couldn't put his finger on it. Nevertheless he sat down. It would be wiser to hear his visitor out, finding out what he wanted, before ridding out of him. Especially because Matt didn't feel like fighting right now.

"Are you aware of the current hour, mister Murdock?"

"Are you?" Matt retorted. "It must be past midnight."

"Yes, it is, mister Murdock. It's, in fact, first am." Matt heard cracking of his armchair, indicating that mysterious man leaned forward a little. "Mister Murdock, what would you say, if I've told you that I can bring back your sight, just like that?" He snapped his fingers.

Matt raised his eyebrows. For a moment he was thinking about stranger's words, before he replied:

"I would say that it's impossible and you're a snake oil salesman."

His interlocutor chuckled.

"Of course you could say that." Another sound of cracking. This time Matt was sure that the mysterious person straightened himself in the chair. "But let's just say it isn't impossible. That I can make you see, painlessly and without any burden on your budget."

Was he some kind of a _bona fide_ doctor? Matt doubted it.

"I appreciate the offer, sir, but I don't need your services. I've got used to the lack of sight. Besides, as far as I know, my blindness can't be cured."

"I suspected that you will be skeptical, mister Murdock. That's why I will let you try out my abilities."

Matt heard and sensed how his visitor stood up and came closer to him. Soon Matt felt a hand being put on his eyes. There was an odd, warm, vibrating sensation that lasted a bit even when the stranger took his hand off. And when he did, something odd happened to lawyer's eyes. After opening them Matt didn't see the world on fire, as he suspected to see. First there were colors – mostly dark ones, but the neon outside added some warmer shades to the mix. Then the colors started to gain shapes.

Matt was staring in silence, absorbing the view in front of him. He couldn't believe… after all these years… It still seemed to be some kind of a dream or trick of the mind. Very cruel for that matter. But something in the back of his head, was telling him that it was real.

The vision in front of him got a bit misty, but with the sheer willpower he managed to not let tears be spilled. He took a deep breath and finally turned to his interlocutor.

The guy who brought back his sight was a slim man in three-piece suit and fedora. He smiled to his patient.

"The effect will last for one day. Exactly at" He looked at his watch. "1:05 am you will lose your sight again. However, if before that you decide you don't want to be blind anymore, here's where you can find me."

He extended his arm and gave Matt a card. Led by habit, the lawyer at first didn't even looked at the paper, he just ran his fingers in search of Braille's letters. Only after a moment he realized that he can now read it normally. Thankfully the neon outside provided the light not-so-long-ago blind Matt didn't need. "Harlan Oswald" said the card. There was also some address, but Matt didn't pay attention to it. He looked up at his mysterious guest, but – to his astonishment – Harlan Oswald was gone.

Matt was both excited and confused. He still thought this was all just a dream. Just in case (and maybe also because his tiredness returned with double power) he laid down on the couch and closed his eyes. He knew that when he open them again, he will find out for sure if this was just a weird dream after really long night of superheroics, or he was really cured of his blindness.

To be fair, he didn't know which option he preferred.


	2. Warning signs

**I have a feeling that I don't do justice to descriptions of Matt being able to see. Then again - who could probably describe this experiences, if they weren't in this situation?**

 **I promise this whole thing will make much more sense later.**

 **Warning signs**

Matt woke up early. He wasn't sure how long he slept, but he knew it was long enough for him to see sunrise. At first he was just lying on the couch and observing the ceiling. The memories of nights and mornings spent in the same situation came to his mind almost immediately. Most of the times he couldn't sleep, because he was waiting for his dad to come home, but sometimes he was just thinking about random things, like how wonderful it would be to go to space or meet Captain America; or he was trying to guess where the ambulances and police cars were going. After the accident he was doing it too, but instead of watching the ceiling, he was listening to the sounds outside his window, getting more and more painfully aware of the fact that world was cruel.

Now he tried to get accustomed to the thought that he can see again. Lying there, on this couch, and observing the ceiling was like a return to those times when everything was less complicated. Weird – even the sounds outside the window seemed to be more muffled. Once this realization hit Matt, he closed his eyes and focused on his hearing. After couple of seconds he caught the sound of dog barking four stories up. Probably the dog wanted this fruit pie standing on the windowsill…

Matt opened eyes. Deciding that this was time to get up, he sat.

That was the moment when he saw the sunrise. Staring at the view in the window, mesmerized by the sun coloring the nearby clouds with red light, Matt couldn't remember when was the last time when he saw the sunrise. After a moment of thinking he came to conclusion that he actually never did. He never woke up so early as a child, so he didn't have this opportunity to witness it. But he was sure that after the accident – especially when he started to be a vigilante – he was awake, when sun was rising above New York and Hell's Kitchen.

How many sunrises he missed because of his blindness?

Matt was staring at the sun until it was finally up. Then he started to think about all those things he wished to see ever since he was nine and blind. A sudden thought crossed his mind. He quickly stood up and went to the box, where he was keeping his Daredvil costume, but above said costume there was another one – a very special clothing. Once Matt opened the box, he saw a red boxer robe with yellow stripe on the edge. And the words embroidered on the back was saying: "Battlin' Jack Murdock".

" _What's the color?"_

" _Red."_

Matt smiled, feeling the tears coming to his eyes. The warm memories of his father – the most caring and loving man Matt ever knew – were flashing before his eyes, as he was remembering the happy days of his childhood. But then these nice memories were pushed away by those less nice. First the accident, then all those times when people, while talking to his father, were treating what happened to his son like it was a tragedy worse than death; and finally the fight with Creel. This fateful night when after his greatest triumph, Matt's father was taken from him.

He was wearing this robe during the fight he was suppose to lose. But he won. Many times, when Matt was touching the clothing, it was bringing to him mixed, bittersweet emotions. And now, when he finally was able to see it, those emotions hit him with even bigger force. Few tear drops fell on the red, satin robe, leaving wet spots.

He wondered if his father ever dreamed of the day his only son will be able to see again. For sure the accident was heartbreaking for him and lying in the hospital bed Matt was able to hear fragments of conversation his father made with a doctor – there was no hope for the cure. Maybe Jack Murdock hoped that one day there will be some kind of progressive operation, probably even very expensive, nevertheless giving his son a chance to regain his sight. And maybe he betted so much money on his own victory to somehow enable Matt have this chance.

"Matty."

Matt froze at the sound of familiar voice saying his name. Then he turned his head to the left and, to his astonishment, saw his own father. Jack Murdock was sitting next to him with a light, but a bit sad smile. He looked just the way Matt remembered him before the accident.

Was delusions a side effect of Oswald's treatment? It was so confusing… both heartwarming and hurtful. His father seemed to be so real…

Jack reached to his son's cheek, but suddenly moved his hand back and saddened. His face looked like he had so much to tell Matt, but didn't know what to say first. Quite frankly Matt found himself in similar situation.

"I wish I've had more time, Matty." His father finally spoke. He smiled again. "After all those years I've gathered some lectures for you, young man."

"Dad…" Matt began, but Jack with more serious expression cut in:

"But first things first. I've come to warn you."

"Warn me? About what?"

Jack looked down, probably searching for good words. It seemed that whatever warning he was going to give, it was something complicated. For a moment he was silent, before he took deep breath, fixed his sad, caring eyes on son and said:

"Believe me, Matty, there is nothing I would want more for you, than to be able to see again. If I could, I would even give you my own eyes." He took another deep breath and after short moment of silence, continued: "But in spite of everything, in spite of whatever you or your old man would want, you have to refuse Harlan Oswald's offer."

This time it was Matt's turn to look for a proper words. Of course weird healer coming to his house and offering one day of cured blindness, seemed a bit suspicious (besides the scent Matt smelled right before Oswald's appearance, reminded him of something…) – but on the other hand, Matt had already saw the sunrise and the robe, and he knew there was still so much things for him to see. It was hard to refuse, when the thing that was taken from him so long time ago, could be now returned.

"I haven't decided yet, if I will take it." Matt replied and that statement was actually true. But right after that, he asked: "Why should I refuse?"

"Because the price may be too high." Said Jack.

Just when Matt was going to question him further, his cell phone rang. The voice in the device announced that the one who was calling him was Karen. Once he's heard it, Jack Murdock disappeared. For a moment Matt was observing the blank space, where few seconds earlier was sitting his late father. However, the lawyer didn't have much time to think about it deeper, because he had to answer the phone, and he couldn't do it, if he didn't know where it was.

Walking around his apartment now, when he had his sight back was so odd. He knew it was the same place he was living all this time. He knew every corner, position of every piece of furniture and every object on the tables and shelves… but now, when he could actually see all those things, alongside with color of the walls, there was some kind of unfamiliarity in his own place. Matt stopped to close his eyes and remind himself of what he was doing with his cell phone the night before. To his personal embarrassment, Matt found it at his coffee table, next to couch, he slept in.

Alas, it was too late to answer. Karen hang up, probably assuming that Matt was asleep or something. But she left the voice message. A very disturbing voice message, for that matter.

Before doing anything else, Matt made few phone calls. He didn't call Karen first, but rang to Foggy, just in case. His partner in business wasn't answering the phone, and for a moment Matt thought that maybe he shouldn't call so early. Nevertheless, he was waiting for Foggy to pick up at least three minutes, before hanging up. Then he called Karen, telling her that he will be soon; and to father Lenton, informing him that there is something he would like to discuss with the priest.

So Matt decided to go to work right now. After short consideration, he also decided to take his cane and shades too. Revealing that he could see, wasn't very wise, especially since he didn't know if it will be a permanent change.

* * *

Matt was hurriedly walking down the street, trying to act as if he was still blind. The street looked just like he suspected it would look – crowded, dirty, with gray pavement and couple of grass here and there. Also all the neighbors he was passing… to this day he's been recognizing them by smells and voices, but today, he could actually see their faces. Of course, he knew that some people were old or young, tall or short, fat or slim, but now he could focus on details of their faces – the pattern of wrinkles, moles, freckles, color of skin, eyes and hair (he could see them looking a little above his red shades)… and he would do that, if he wasn't in such a hurry. These short glances he gave each and one of them had to be enough, at least for now. For now, coming to the office and see what happened was a priority.

 _Maybe it's nothing_ – some part of him wanted to convince him. – _It doesn't necessarily mean that something wrong is happening._

 _But Karen sounded so distressed…_

Matt was just passing by some alleyway, when he heard another familiar voice.

"Look at him. One additional sense and he already didn't recognize his old friend."

Matt stopped and turned to the alleyway, where Stick was leaning on the wall. The younger man took a moment to look at the face of his former mentor. The gray hair, wrinkles and white, empty eyes were something he fully expected to see, Stick always sounded old, even when Matt was a kid… but the lawyer didn't expect that the "the way of Spartan" guy looked so dry… and ordinary. Nobody who'd see him on the street, never would have expected that this old man with a look of school janitor, was a martial artist.

But Matt quickly stopped staring at Stick and with a hardened expression said:

"I've told you to leave my city."

"Did you really think I would do what some little, whiny crybaby told me to do?"

Matt gave a soft sigh. For a moment he was contemplating few not so nice sentences, but the sense of hurry told him to just move along.

"I don't have time for your bullshit, so fuck off."

And he proceeded with walking away. But he was immediately stopped by Stick calling after him:

"You know, Oswald offered me sight too."

Matt abruptly turned back to him and came closer.

"Oh, yeah? You don't look like someone, who's blindness has been cured."

"Because I turned down his offer. Oh, don't get me wrong, I was enjoying this one day with eyes being useful for once…"

"So why did you not leave them this way?" Matt cut in. "Sight is one of this luxuries that will kill you and me eventually?"

Stick's response wasn't sarcastic. No, it was actually very calm.

"I didn't take Oswald's offer, because of the same reason, you probably won't take it."

"And this reason is…?" Matt asked further.

"Kid, you're a lawyer. You should smell fishy deals from the distance." He leaned closer to Matt and added: "Whenever you like it or not, you will have to ask yourself a question: How much you value your own sight? Because you can be sure as hell that Harlan Oswald won't give it to you for free."

"And what was more valuable than _you_ being able to see?"

"The rest of my senses being effective as always, for example. Have you put into consideration that after paying 70% of your attention to sight, like a normal person, you will numb your taste, smell, hearing and touch, losing all those things you were working so hard to achieve? It won't happen immediately, sure, but eventually it will happen."

"So this is this big price Oswald wants for his service?"

"No, this will be only a side effect, kid. The price is different for everybody, but it's always high."

"And your price was…?"

For a moment Stick didn't respond and his expression gained some harsher features.

"None of your business." He said finally.

"Well then," Matt turned his back on former mentor. "I don't have time for this. Goodbye, Stick."

He started to move towards his office. He could already see the board with the "Nelson & Murdock" written with big letters.

"You know pretty damn well what the price is, don't you, kid?" Stick called after him. Matt didn't even looked at him, he was just walking towards his destination. "It wasn't so hard for you to connect the dots."

Matt stopped in front of the board. Now he could see clearly the full sign: "Nelson & Murdock. Attorneys at law". He remembered running through his fingers with letters engraved on the copper board, when it was finally hanged on the wall. Back then he was able to paint the whole image in his head.

" _Nelson and Murdock. Avocados in law."_

Back then he was finding the board beautiful. Seeing it right now, he still thought it was.

He shook his head, returning to reality, and then entered his office. He found Karen sitting on her desk, listening to the cell phone.

To be fair, she was looking just like he was imagining her to look (more or less). A small blonde with blue eyes and make up limited to pink lipstick (then again, Matt wasn't an expert in woman's make up, unless he could smell it).

When she saw Matt, she only said hi, and returned to the phone. After some time, she hang up and looked at her boss.

"Still no news from Foggy?" He asked worriedly.

"I was trying to call him three times already. How about you?"

"I was useless too." Matt replied. "Then again, I wasn't as persistent as you, and only called once."

"Maybe he just left his phone somewhere, where he can't hear it." She tried to rationalize it… but then she looked at her employer and said: "I have a bad feelings about this, Matt."

"Yeah, me too."

He felt how the air around him dropped cold.

 _Maybe it's nothing. Oh, please, Lord, let it be nothing…_ But knowing his luck, it was probably something.

* * *

 **I would like to read what do you think was Stick's price.**

 **Also - can I have more reviews, please? It will motivate me more.**


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